*With Aunt Sally dead, Mama is the last of the children of
Laura and TeeJay. In this Lewis-Jackson family, she is the last of
that generation that can remember the names of those who came out
of slavery and that first generation born after slavery. She has
attempted to keep that memory alive through me. I do hope I do her
memory justice. There may be a number of people depending on me
that I do a good job and tell the truth of what came before.
A couple of years ago I put together a family memoir. Much of
it was created in stories so that the characters of those family
members could be more easily remembered. They included Sam
Williams and his wife Fannie and Mama’s mother Laura and her
Aunt Tempie and Uncle Allan, the dwarf. And Daddy’s mother Mary
Lewis and her mother Betty Jones and Daddy’s father George
Graves, born twelve years before Cox’s Snow. (Strangely, I found
the date of Cox’s Snow (1857) in the FWP work The Negro in
Virginia. It was through this source that I was able to figure
that Daddy father was sixty at his birth in 1905.It must be tough
when all your sisters and brothers are gone and you are the last
one standing.
Blessed are those who have children and grandchildren who will
still give you some comfort in this world. At this letter writing,
Mama was seventy-five; she still had four daughters living—Sistuh,
Susie, Lucinda, and Annie, called "Bunk."
**Sonny Rivers was the only son of Sistuh and Bustuh Rivers.
Bustuh became extremely sick a few years later and recovered.
Bustuh had worked around death much of his life being an assistant
at a funeral home. Ironically, it would be Sistuh, his wife, who
would pass. She suffered considerably from cigarette smoking. She
was a good church sister and prepared herself well for her death
and burial. Including Sonny, Sistuh left three daughters: Sandra
and Elaine, both teachers; and Lydia, a nurse. We all miss her
terribly. I know that God will find her a place in heaven.
***Freddie has a son named James, called "Buggy." He
was down in Louisiana, living across the river from New Orleans in
a township called Gretna. I saw him once while I was in New
Orleans. He too was not able to make it to Aunt Sally’s funeral.
That must have hurt him too. I spent the first two months of my
life at Aunt Sally’s house in South Baltimore, 300 South
Fremont. I still have fond memories of her. (See Letter
43 .)